


Who is a loser now, Sentinel?

by Xobit



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xobit/pseuds/Xobit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young noble receives his first slave... things does not go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who is a loser now, Sentinel?

“When I said any slave you liked, youngling, I did not mean a warbuild!” Ultra Magnus put his fists on his hips and glared at his only creation. Of course, he couldn’t stand the big blue opticked gaze he got in return, and huffed heavily.

“Very well, then, just be careful with him… warbuilds are notoriously difficult to handle.” Waving the slave trader over, the blue and white noble started bargaining for the silver warbuild his only creation had decided to cast his attentions upon. Optimus certainly was assertive, so maybe it would not be too much of a problem?

* * *

“I am not a pleasure slave.” The statement was cold and disapproving, though the warbuild hadn’t moved at all since they arrived in Optimus' berth chamber. 

“You’re a warbuild, I know that… I like that.” Optimus had never liked pleasurebots, slave or temporarily bought ones. Honestly he wasn’t too sure what to do with this warbuild, either… He was supposed to have found a pleasurebot slave to teach him about interfacing. That was how it was normally done, but he hadn’t liked any of the delicate little things on offer, and this mech had caught his attention. 

‘This mech’ was huge, dark silver, black, and a dark red… his face a careful blank that most politicians could learn from. He'd probably be huge in all respects, as well. Optimus wasn't too sure how he felt about that part of it, but then again... 

"What, then, is it that you expect of me... sir?" Tagged on with all the reluctance of someone who was not used to serving a single owner. Warbuilds were either guards, and so owned by a family or town's guard house, or they belonged to the citystate and served in the army. 

"Who are you? And why where you there... Warbuilds...." Optimus hesitated, the mech had been in the right place, but he had towered over even the others of his kind on offer. 

"I am Megatron, sir. I was there because I was considered too big for the house I have served for half an eon. The... fashion has changed." He was older than that, Optimus was almost sure of it. But at least it meant that he had not been sold because of trouble. 

"Megatron? It is a strong name. I am sorry that your house wouldn't keep you... can I ask what you would like to do?" The red optics narrowed a bit, but that was all the change in expression the mech allowed himself. 

"I would have liked to be enlisted into the citystate army... sir." 

"Ah..." And he had gotten him instead, which caused resentment, of course. Optimus was not blind to that, but he could make and keep a promise. 

"If you serve me for a vorn, I can get you into the army. You wouldn't have to be a grunt, either..." His creator was a general, after all, and this was a mech he could use. Optimus had noticed him because Ultra Magnus had looked at him so thoughtfully... and because of his size, naturally. 

"As for what I need... I came of age a few orns ago. I am supposed to be taught about interfacing, and have my seals broken. Sire took me to find a suitable pleasurebot for the job... I chose you instead." Soldiers were brutes, but they had to interface, right? So presumably this mech could do the job well enough. 

"Other than that, I would like you to serve me as my personal guard. So far I have simply chosen one from the guard house, but I don't see why I should not be able to have one of my own. You will be quartered at the guard house for recharge and I will respect what needs you have for training." It was a fair deal... fairer then what most would offer. Optimus was quite curious if this warbuild would see it for what it was.

"You want me to interface with you..." For some reason this revelation seemed to stall the warbuild. It couldn't be that hard to grasp. 

"I want you to teach me about interfacing, pleasuring a partner and being pleasured. Yes, that would require interfacing and so will breaking my seals." Slowly, simple. Was it perhaps true that warbuilds were unable to feel pleasure? He had been sure it was a rumor, his sire never talked about them as inhibited like that.

"I got that!... sir... I just..." And for the first time the cool mask cracked a little, a strangely conflicted expression peaking through. 

"You just?" 

"Don't push me!" The growl was clear, so was the warning. Optimus jerked back, surprised at the suddenly feral mech before him. It was not that the warbuild had seemed docile, not at all, but this was true aggression. This was danger...

It was rather thrilling.

"I did not know I was 'pushing'. I just don't understand your reservation." He did know better than to provoke, much as it would be fascinating to see the result. Maybe fascinating. Likely painful.

"What you are asking is difficult for me, sir. I am a warbuild... we do not share pleasure lightly." Oh? That was interesting. He could of course order the mech to do it, which could be a right disaster, but he wasn't interested in that. If he had been, he would have gotten a pleasurebot. 

"Then how and when do you share pleasure?" Megatron shifted, clearly not comfortable. 

"With shield brothers. When trust has been built. It is not taken, it is given..." He could work with that. Optimus smiled, trying not to seem to be discounting what the slave was used to... he could not really blame him for being what he was. 

"I didn't mean that you had to take my seals right now. You are big and imposing... I would like to get to know you too. Especially if you are going to be my personal guard on top of everything else. And there are other things... ah, foreplay? You could teach me some of those without it becoming too much in the beginning, yes?" And masturbating, but he wasn't going to mention that yet. It seemed to be bad enough that he had seals, if the mech knew he had never even played with his own chassis... 

"I suppose... sir. It would be acceptable. Is it possible that I can control the pace of this, or do you need to be... de-sealed at a certain orn?" And back to being as cool as ice.

"No, you have all the time you need. My sire is not interested in bonding me off this early." That got a twist of the thin dermas, a hint of a displeased scowl that made Optimus rise an optic ridge questioningly. Megatron slid his gaze away, obviously not interested in attempting to answer the unvoiced question. 

“Do you require teaching now, sir?” There was still great reluctance in the word ‘sir’ but Optimus overlooked it. It would become better, they were after all under a contract of words now… He had to be careful though, this mech was not one to tease overmuch. 

“No, let us go look at where you will be living.” Optimus led the way to the guard house where they were greeted by the gruff old free mech who ran it, a former slave who had earned his freedom. Kup was seemingly impressed with their new addition, though rather surprised at the set of instructions he got about him. 

And thus, everything began.

* * *

It took nearly a groon for him to dare ask the warbuild for lessons in ‘foreplay’, and he could see in the red optics that Megatron was not pleased. Optimus ended up very pleased, however, after three tactile overloads it was difficult to be anything but a puddle of melted alloys. He barely managed to dismiss the guard to his recharge, and it was not till well into the next light cycle that he realized he hadn’t been allowed to touch him in return. 

Much as he tried to change that, it was that the pattern that remained. Megatron would teach him, but he would not allow the exchange both ways, and soon it became frustrating and unsatisfying. Optimus was unhappy on a level he had never experienced before. Wanted what he seemingly couldn’t have… 

It was difficult to handle when you were used to getting most anything, within reason. Sharing pleasure was not unreasonable, was it? It was done all the time among nobles and pleasurebots.

He spent as much time as he could with the warbuild. Took him with him everywhere, watched him train and interact with the other guards. Got to know him as greedily as others counted their credits, but still he got very little back… there was even anger. 

Optimus tried to give the mech gifts, as much as that was inappropriate, but that too was met with anger. He didn’t understand it, he was doing nothing that the other guards were not doing? They brought each other things, small tokens, treats… Why would Megatron be angry that he attempted to emulate this custom? He even kept the things small, tried to choose things that wouldn’t stand out to the other guards. 

More and more often he lay on his berth, twisting and turning well into the dark cycle, plagued by thoughts of the silver warbuild. It wasn’t even just sexual, it would have been so much easier if it had been! But he wanted praise, he wanted to be smiled at, touched… all he ever got was the cold mask, scowls and tense words of negation. Even the touches he did get were impersonal. 

Even in his weapon training he got no praise from the silver mech. Kup had trained him since he was a youngling and he knew he wasn’t bad, but were other guards would stop by to watch him, and even show approval occasionally, but Megatron never came unless he had to. He watched impassively and commented on nothing. Not even when Optimus asked. 

He should probably threaten to dissolve their deal, but it wasn’t in him to do such a thing. Optimus was not cruel, even if he was a noble. Ultra Magnus had always made sure that he treated their slaves with a level of respect that he seldom saw other nobles employ. This was the first time he felt ready to break from those instilled morals. 

Desperation had a seductive voice…

* * *

Optimus disliked parties such as these. He’d always hated them, they were tedious displays of wealth and power. Sentinel’s had only become worse since his coming of age, the noble was slightly older than he, and he enjoyed making these parties into sensual displays, pleasurebots all over and empty rooms for those who fancied a little ‘teaching’. He encouraged his peers to bring their own slaves, encouraged trading with them… 

Downing his third cube, Optimus pulled a grimace and went to get another from the slave tending the bar. He hadn’t even thought about bringing Megatron in here, the guard was unhappy enough about having to be leashed in this tower. Even more than half drunk, the idea of forcing his warbuild in here to display was unsavory to say the least. 

“And once again you come alone.” The supercilious voice grated on his frazzled nerves, and Optimus had to take a moment to school the distaste from his features. 

“I don’t care to parade my property around for all to ogle.” He was too drunk to completely suppress the distaste he had for the idea. 

“Oh, does your toy have feelings you have to take care of?” Sentinel grinned wolfishly at him, looking him up and down in that creepy manner that Optimus hated most of all. His only consolation was that Ultra Magnus disliked the noble families of this tower, and was unlikely to seek a bonding alliance from them. His sire was not one for treating slaves as objects! 

Casting a pitying glance at the small femme held tightly by Sentinel’s side, Optimus reined in his wish to say a dozen unforgivably horrible things. She did not look happy at all, resigned and fearful, about as far from happy as anyone could be. And the collar she wore was unnecessarily broad and heavy for her slender frame.

“I don’t have a toy, Sentinel.” If he had been less drunk he would probably have considered his word choice a little more thoroughly. Unfortunately, he wasn’t, and didn’t, leaving himself open to ridicule.

“Oh! Oh… don’t tell me! The precious only creation of the great and honored Ultra Magnus is still sealed? Precious… I must help you with that!” Suddenly the small yellow femme was shoved into his arms, Sentinel leering at them both. 

“What?” Optimus steadied her with one hand, barely saving his full cube of high grade with the other. Glaring at Sentinel with murder in his optics. Around them the crowd had gone silent. Of course the other noble would attempt to discredit him like this!

“Just pick a room, unless you want witnesses to the deed? That would be kinky, but then you are such a prim and proper virgin…” The last word had emphasis on it, in a way that made it seem vile and unwanted. Optimus felt cold, sick almost, realizing what kind of game Sentinel was playing, and winning. 

Still he pushed the pleasurebot away, gentler than Sentinel had, and snarled wordlessly at the laughing noble before turning and stalking off unsteadily. This was bad! He wasn’t sure how to negate this damage, waiting it out was an option, but it would make life difficult for his sire. Best would have been if he had just taken the little femme to a room and told her to lie about what they did, but that could have very easily backfired. 

He wasn’t even aware that he sought out Megatron. The warbuild was just as surprised as he was, but peeled away from his peers with nothing but a nod to them. Most of them seemed rather cowed, like all slaves serving in this tower… it was horrible. 

“What is wrong, sir?” At least he was no longer looking angry when he used that title. Optimus hunched a little and tried to bite back a confused sob. 

“I-It’s just politics… everything about this is politics! I hate it… why is it wrong to wait with interfacing? It makes no sense, as if it is an inconvenience to have seals!” Maybe it was, his sire had never said it was but he was still expecting him to follow traditions. Megatron, on the other hand, acted as if one’s seals were almost… something to be revered. Maybe it was for warbuilds? 

“Sentinel finally has something he can lord over me, and I practically handed it to him in a crystal cube… I should have declined coming here but that would have been nearly as bad politically speaking.” Shrugging, trying not to sound as upset as he was, Optimus leaned against a wall. 

“It is really that important for you not to be a virgin?” As usual the voice was cool, no real feelings in it. Optimus had really only heard disapproval and anger in it, didn’t expect to hear anything different now. Didn’t expect his hand to be taken, and the end of the chain leash he had never touched to be placed firmly into his palm. 

“What?” He looked dumbly at his hand where it rested in the comparably massive black-clawed fist. 

“Bring me in there.” That was an order if he had ever heard one, even if it was not spoken as one. “Be confident, march right up to the fool and challenge him! I will back you up, little Prime.” Something warm blossomed at those words, that promise. He might not be Megatron’s friend, certainly nothing past that, but at least his tower meant something to the warbuild… that was better than nothing at all! 

He emptied the cube of high grade he had been clutching in his other hand all this time and nodded, though still not looking at Megatron. Turning he held the leash and walked back into the party with his head held high and a smirk on his dermas. A bit more unsteady than before, but determined to do this, both for himself and for his sire and tower. 

It was easy enough to locate Sentinel, in the center of a laughing group of suck-ups and unhappy pleasurebots. Made even easier by the fact that most of the nobles parted right quick at the sight of the warbuild despite the leash that denoted a personal slave. Warbuilds usually didn’t sport those. 

“Well, who is a loser now, Sentinel?” Optimus struck a pose of assured victory, gesturing to Megatron who had come to a halt behind him, only micro meters from touching him. Far closer than the warbuild usually came, he suppressed a shudder of awareness. All of this was so worth it for the shocked angry look on his so called peers face plates.

“We are all going to be losers if you don’t remove that thing from in here! You are drunk off your aft, Optimus Prime.” Oh, the fear was so good to hear! Gave a whole different kind of satisfied pleasure. He nearly jumped when large grey arms closed around him in what could hardly be mistaken for anything but an intimate embrace. 

“He deceives you, my Prime. I will take care of your needs as always, I promise you.” If that was only the full truth, but Optimus did nothing but smirk, unknowingly matching Megatron’s expression, and looked straight at the other Prime. 

“I know you will.” Optimus patted one of the giant black hands, resting over his abdomen. Oh this was worth… he had no words! He would somehow give Megatron what he wanted so much, even if there were still several groons left of their original deal. He’d just find some pleasurebot or other to break his seals… preferably an old one at his tower, one about to be sent to retirement. His tower did right by their slaves!

“I have little taste for pleasurebots, a fact I have never hidden. Why would I want one of them to take my seals when I can have this mech?” Smirking evilly he wiggled a little in Megatron’s hold and then carefully broke it. “I think I will retire now… the company here bores me terribly!” No one stopped them from doing just that, in fact, several other mechs did the same… certainly all of those from his tower, and those towers that supported his own. 

Triumph!

* * *

He had said thank you to the warbuild that dark cycle, but nothing had really changed between them. Which meant that it had been protecting the tower that meant something and not protecting him. That only cemented his choice of reward, though it also made him sad. His sire was surprised at his approach and his careful questions about Megatron’s possible use in the military. 

But Ultra Magnus was not one to refuse what was only sensible, plus he would be able to give his creation a more suitable companion. Not a pleasurebot, though… Optimus stayed adamant on that! He’d already discreetly begun his search for a slave to take his seals, someone who would not talk about it. 

Things would work out fine… 

“Megatron? Please come with me.” Calling the warbuild to him, he lead him to his rooms and sat down in a chair with the datapad his sire had given him at first meal. 

“Our original deal was for a vorn of service…” He paused, uncertain now that everything was worked out and ready to be put into effect. Megatron would be right happy away from him, away from having to fulfill the deal… that was just as well, wasn’t it? Optimus pushed his own unhappiness away, tried to ignore the clenching of his spark and handed Megatron the datapad. 

Silence reigned supreme as the warbuild carefully read though the documents on it. Why did he feel like fidgeting? There was nothing in there that could displease Megatron… Ultra Magnus had checked his previous owner history, he was getting a higher rank than most slaves when they were entered into citystate service! And he was granted the allowance to save up to buy his freedom, as came with such ranking. 

His own sire’s great-grandsire had done that, and now Megatron could as well. If he took the position… Optimus clenched his dentals together... pride seemed to play a rather large part in the warbuild’s actions and choices. The pad was put down, Optimus couldn’t help following it with his optics, a small frown forming on his dermas, and so he was unprepared for having his head lifted and his dermas taken by a kiss. 

Megatron had never kissed him before? 

Large, powerful, deadly hands ran over his plating in knowing caresses. He touched back, knew he shouldn’t… knew Megatron didn’t like it. But this time he wasn’t stopped, and the answering growls didn’t seem to come from displeasure. The warbuild knew him, knew his chassis from groons of play, but this was not play. 

As paths of fire were trailed over his chassis by hands and dermas, Optimus had to relinquish coherent thought and allow Megatron to rule him. Here, he was not owner or master… not that he had ever truly been that to the warbuild, he hadn’t tried to be that for a long time now. 

When the hot mouth reached his interface panel, it had already been open for a while. He forgot how to think when Megatron showed him that all those previous times of play had been just that, pleasant play. His seal was taken before he knew it, the pain brief and small as opposed to what he had been told it would be like. 

He was allowed a moment of clarity as the larger warbuild moved to kiss him before completing his self-appointed task. One kiss, and a long undecipherable look from red optics, then a sensation he didn’t know how to label. Pressure, pain, pleasure… 

Interfacing, real interfacing. Despite what he wanted, he was not able to give much back, he clung and cried out, his world rocked to its foundations by what Megatron gave him. Pleasure was a pale label, a poor description of what he felt… 

When he woke again, his chassis ached and he was alone. A timid inquiry later, he knew that getting up to check was futile, Megatron had left for the army position well over half a recharge cycle ago. 

Not that he had a right to stop him…

* * *

“If you keep declining suitors, you will never mate.” Ultra Magnus sounded vaguely amused at the idea. Maybe bemused was a better word? Optimus couldn’t blame his sire for it, though, it was odd, he had always wanted to mate, to have sparklings and continue their line. Meeting the warbuild had changed a lot of things, though. 

The one important one, was that he wanted something almost unheard of among nobles. Something that might come after mating, but usually did not. 

Love. 

It had taken a long talk with Kup to realize that this feeling, this concept, had been why Megatron had refused him in the beginning. He still did not know why the mech had repented and given him so much more as a parting gift. 

It had taken even longer to realize that his attraction to the warbuild had undergone a metamorphosis so profound it had changed his entire life. All his plans were dust now… all he had ever wished for out of reach. 

He could learn to hate love, but what was the point? At least he had loved, at least he knew what it was.

“There are worse fates than to never mate.” How many vorn? How many suitors? Where was Megatron now? In the army that protected their citystate, high enough in rank to command others, high enough in rank to earn his freedom. 

And when he was free? 

“You have so many suitors… even non-nobles…” Yes, and most of them were just out to get a title and more riches. Optimus shook his head and huffed as he slowly counted the vorn since he had last seen Megatron. Thirty-three? No… thirty-six by now. 

“Even a sub-general. Huh, that is an impressive feat for a former slave… such a high rank in such a short time.” What? Whirling abruptly, Optimus snatched the pad from his sire’s hands and read it with disbelief. There was no name on it, only the rank...but that was normal for a suitor that wasn’t a noble. Sub-general… the highest title that a mech could attain if he was not noble, it made sense for such a one to seek a bonding but…

‘Bought freedom from the state twenty vorn ago.’ But no noble would accept an unranked suitor, or so the unspoken rules said… 

And there it was, so innocent… just a number. Two little glyphs.

Served in the army of Iacon for thirty-six vorn. 

_Thirty-six._

* * *

_~What if I hadn’t waited for you.~_

_~I knew you would, my little Prime.~_

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for the artist megop_murr_miay (LJ)/Murr-Miay (DA) 
> 
> Made for [Who is a loser now, Sentinel? the Art](http://murr-miay.deviantart.com/art/Who-is-a-loser-now-Sentinal-155716896)
> 
> Beta  
> AKzeal


End file.
